


A Winter Story

by dodds



Category: Actor RPF, Marvel Avengers Movies RPF
Genre: Christmas, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-25
Updated: 2012-06-25
Packaged: 2017-11-08 13:29:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/443686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dodds/pseuds/dodds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chris and Tom spend Christmas together, but because there's little food, Tom goes out shopping rather late. Hours later, he still hasn't returned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Winter Story

**Author's Note:**

> written for lokidindeed @ tumblr, who posted the prompt in the hiddlesworth tag.
> 
> unbeta'd, quickly written. also got annoyed at the end of it, so slightly rushed. anyway, enjoy!

Snow was a beautiful killer, that much Chris knew, but he didn’t think of it as he held Tom in a close embrace in front of the fireplace. Tom had his gaze fixed upon the flames, which danced beautifully upon the wood.

There was something poetic about the Christmas, and it wasn’t just that they were spending it together. The place they had gone seemed to have more to do with it. Since they were touring in Europe again, they had said farewell to the rest of the cast for a couple of days and Tom had booked a cottage high up in Scotland, a place he’d always wanted to go to. Chris had agreed, though with some struggle – growing up in Australia meant a warm Christmas, not huddling up with your boyfriend under a blanket in front of the fireplace with hot chocolate and the ugliest Christmas sweaters one could imagine.

“We must eat something,” Chris mumbled after a look on the clock. He could hardly believe that they had been sitting in front of the fireplace without moving – apart from Tom shifting in his arms – for already three hours. He placed a kiss in Tom’s hair to make a point.

“What?” Tom sounded sleep drunk, which made Chris assume that the thin had fallen asleep at some point. Tom went to sit more upright and turned half so he could face the other. “C’again?” His words slurred into each other. There wasn’t only chocolate in the hot chocolate, that much became sure. 

“We need to eat, before we – or at least I – starve to death,” Chris repeated, now with a bit more explanation. Tom tried to stand up as an answer, though it took him a couple of tries before he was actually on his feet. Chris managed to stand up immediately and walked to the kitchen, Tom following him like a dog with the cups in his hands.

“And we have not a lot to eat actually.” Chris started to throw random ingredients he found in the fridge on the counter, including: some cheese, milk, fish, some meat he didn’t immediately recognize and butter. Tom added a baguette and half a bread to the list of stuff they had. 

Chris disappeared to the basement and returned with ice cream and two bottles of wine. “Unless you want to show off with that, I suggest one of us quickly goes to the village again to see if there’s still something open.”

“I’ll go, I’ll go!” Tom threw up his arms, “I know I should’ve gone in the early afternoon, I forgot.”

“Good you know you should go.” Chris pulled him in a tight embrace nonetheless. “Don’t get yourself killed with all that charm.” He pressed a kiss on Tom’s lips, the chocolate taste present.

“Sure.” Tom nearly skipped out of the kitchen, grabbing his coat along the way and the left to the shop.

***

Chris had gone back to the living room and had lied down on the sofa, deciding he could take a small nap while Tom was to the shop. The flames made him feel cozy and soon he drove off into a black nothingness.

As he woke up, he noticed on the clock that it was already eleven pm and judging by the silence, Tom still hadn’t returned. He tried to remember the hour Tom had left and decided that Tom had been out for at least 4 hours, or more, he couldn’t remember the hour at all.

Half an hour later, the fire flickering again, Tom still hadn’t returned. Chris grabbed his coat, a scarf and a backpack with a blanket stuffed in it – for safety – and left the cottage himself. The flashlight didn’t help a lot, nor did the streetlights but it didn’t take him a lot of time before he saw a familiar scarf lying on the ground. A scarf without a person wearing it.

Panic started pumping through Chris’ veins and it only took a couple of seconds before he had lost it. He stumbled around in the snow, the worst scenarios flashing through his mind. Death. Kidnapping. Accidents. Maybe he had been transferred to the hospital without warning him. 

“Tom?” He choked on the name. His vision blurred he stumbled on, flashlight shaking in his hand. He held the frozen scarf tightly in the other. “Tom…” 

He nearly fell onto his knees as he spotted a silhouette lying in the snow on the side of the road. “Tom?” He grabbed the blanket from the backpack and carefully brushed away the thin layers of ice forming on Tom’s squeezed-shut eyes. The lips had turned a purple blue  which stood out against the pale of the skin. All the blood seemed to have stopped flowing in Tom’s body, but the chest clearly rose up and down. 

“Chris?” The voice cracked, but it was definitely Tom’s voice. His fingers clutched themselves on Chris’ coat. “Chris?”

“I’m here, Tom, it’ll be fine.” His lips nearly froze to Tom’s as he leaned over to press a kiss on them. Careful to not hurt Tom, he picked him up, blanket draped over him. Tom’s head fell towards Chris’ upper arm, trying to find as much body warmth as he could. 

The walk back took quite some time with a seemingly dead weight in his arms, but he made it back after all. Ignoring everything, from the fire that had died again, to taking off their shoes, he walked up the stairs towards the bathroom.

“Chris? Please?” Tom clung onto Chris as the latter tried to let go of Tom so he could open the taps. Chris ran his fingers through Tom’s hair, trying to sooth the man without words. He couldn’t talk anymore, a lump of guilt in his throat prevented him from doing little more than make choking noises. It was his fault that Tom had nearly frozen to death and he knew it. He had allowed Tom to go for food with a risk of freezing so high. 

With the taps finally running, Chris took off his own coat and jumper first so he was barely dressed in a white t-shirt before he began undressing Tom. It was a slow job, trying to undress Tom, because the man was so cold he seemed to cling onto every piece of garment he was wearing. 

“Tom, please work with me.” He pulled Tom in a soft, warm kiss to convince him. Tom looked at him with eyes that made Chris feel guilty about wanting to undress the man even though it was for greater good.

He eventually got Tom to strip to his pants and with some trouble, Tom ended up in the bathtub, shivering at the temperature of the water. Chris’d heard somewhere that warm water wasn’t the best thing to start with, so he had made it tepid and made a plan to add warm water along the way.

“I’m sorry,” Chris eventually choked out. Tom looked up at him, head titled to the left in confusion. 

“Why?” The question was honest, without hesitation. “Why are you sorry, Chris?” He pushed himself up, and leant against Chris’ chest for support. The muscular didn’t seem to mind any of it and stroked absentmindedly through Tom’s hair.

“I shouldn’t have let you go to the shops,” Chris explained. “Don’t worry about it, you’re here now. You’re safe. You’ll be fine.”

“I know I’ll be fine, you’re here, aren’t you?” Tom responded. He closed his eyes, his breathing slowing down. 

***

“Please stay?” Tom mumbled, not letting go of Chris’ hand. He was safely tucked under a pile of blankets. “Chris?”

Chris, who wanted to go down to grab something to eat and change into his own pajamas, stood awkwardly by the bed, unsure of what to do. “I’ll be back, I promise. I just don’t fancy sleeping in my jeans.”

Tom let go and smiled sheepishly. “Hurry then.”

It wasn’t their perfect Christmas but it was their Christmas and just the two of them. There wasn’t a turkey. There wasn’t some fancy one. It was hot chocolate and a cuddle in bed. Slow, soft kisses that expressed love and admiration, not passion. It was their Christmas and even through all the accidents, it was perfect.


End file.
